Nurse Abby
by RadioShack84
Summary: Someone close to Abby gets sick and she gets to play Nurse for awhile, but can she get to the bottom of what's going on with her less than cooperative patient? COMPLETE!
1. Worrying

A/N: The first 2 chapters of this story are a re-post. They are written by Jennie and were previously posted by DeathStlkr. Jennie has given me permission to finish her story, so chapters 3 and later are written by me. Please let me know what you would like to see happen as the story progresses. Currently I only have this planned through about chapter 5 or 6. I hope my writing can live up to that of the first two chapters. Thanks again, Jennie!

Also, this story is based on the assumption that 'Twilight' did not result in Kate's death. Ziva may or may not make an appearance. I haven't decided.

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters and I am not profiting from this story, so here we go…

Chapter 1

Abby Sciuto was working on a blood analysis for her boss, Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs, when Special Agent Caitlin Todd, her best friend, came into her lab.

"Hey Abby! Gibbs wants that Blood Analysis pronto."

Abby smirked. "Well, you can tell our boss that my fingers are working over time and he definitely doesn't pay me enough."

Kate smiled and lingered in the lab. That was Abby, always telling Kate to tell Gibbs things that would get her into trouble. But if Abby simply told him that herself, there would be absolutely nothing wrong.

"Kate, you _do_ know that they have this absolutely amazing invention called the telephone and I can use it to call you. When I'm done, okay?"

Kate shrugged. "Okay, so the truth is that Gibbs is in a sour mood."

Abby smiled. "When is he not?"

Okay, Abby did have a point there. She grinned at her friend's comment, which was another of those things that only Abby would get away with. "Yeah, okay, you have a point, as usual. But today is really bad! And he doesn't look so hot either."

Abby looked up worriedly then forced herself to calm down. "There is a flu bug going around." She amazed herself with how calm she really did sound. Inside though, she was panicking. Gibbs hadn't been snappy earlier! And he had looked plenty hot enough to her…

Kate was surprised that the lab tech knew about such trivial things as flu bugs.

Abby grinned, knowing exactly what Kate was thinking. "Hey," she shrugged, "I watch the news."

Kate smiled. That was Abby for you- always one step ahead and full of surprises. "Okay then, I'll go and see if I can't save Tony from the incessant yelling." And with that, Kate left.

**1 HOUR LATER**

Abby stepped off the elevator and headed towards the bullpen. She heard Gibbs yelling at McGee and winced. This was _not_ going to be easy, of that she was certain. Of course, one could easily argue that _nothing _was easy with Gibbs.

"Okay Gibbs, I've got your Blood Analysis." She pulled the printed page out of her pocket with a smile and handed it to him. "Here you go Boss-man!" She made an attempt to sound like her normal, cheerful self. Still, she couldn't help but notice that his face was incredibly pale. She refused to let herself panic- for now.

He grinned at her. "Thanks Abbs."

Abby smiled in spite of herself. "Gibbs, are you feeling okay?" He glared at her and nodded.

Yeah, that was what she thought… But she shrugged. "Okay. See you later then." Abby walked away and into the elevator, intent on heading to the morgue to see Ducky.

The only person who knew of her and Gibbs' relationship was Ducky. When she entered the Morgue she saw Ducky working on a blood culture.

"Hey Duck-man! Can I ask you question?"

Ducky looked up at Abby. "I don't know that I'll be much help, but you're welcome to ask my dear."

Abby smiled. She loved Ducky and his quirky pet names for all of them. "Have you seen Gibbs this morning?"

Ducky thought for a moment before answering. "No I don't believe that I have. Why, is something wrong?"

Abby shrugged. "Kate said he was grouchy, but Gibbs is always grouchy. Still, I decided to go up and see him, just to be sure. He looks pretty pale Duck. And we didn't go out last night. He wanted to work on his boat."

Ducky thought for a minute. "I'll see what I can do, alright? And please don't worry my dear; I'm sure it's just a cold or something."

Abby smiled. "Thanks Ducky." She was incredibly grateful that they had a doctor in the building just the same. With one last look back at the doctor, she left the Autopsy Suite.

**30 MINUTES LATER**

Ducky walked up to the bullpen and saw Gibbs sitting at his desk. Indeed Abby had been right. He did look pale... too pale, just as she had assumed. Ducky walked over to Gibbs' desk and looked at him.

"Anything wrong Duck?"

Ducky just shrugged. "You tell me Jethro."

Gibbs looked confused. "Ducky, what are you talking about?"

Ducky looked to see Tony and Kate were watching off and on. Well, according to Abby he wasn't going to appreciate this conversation either way, but Ducky knew Gibbs well enough to know that this was not a conversation he should have with Gibbs in front of his subordinates. "Would you care to share lunch with me?"

Gibbs shrugged and gave Ducky an odd look. Still, Ducky was his friend and would invariably have a good enough reason. "Sure Duck."

Ducky smiled at him and nodded. "Come down to the morgue when you get hungry." Ducky turned and headed off to the elevator.


	2. Watching

Chapter 2

Ducky had gotten Gibbs to eat lunch with him at 12:30. Gibbs came in and found Ducky looking over a dead body. The skin was peeled back from the rest of the body and Ducky was staring at the contents intently. When he saw it, his normally strong stomach started to churn and threatened to send all of his breakfast, which had consisted of 6 cups of coffee, spewing all over the sparkling clean linoleum floors.

"Ducky; what's the sudden urge to have lunch"

Ducky looked up at his friend. "Jethro, are you feeling alright"

Gibbs looked at the pathologist with a confused look. "Not you too…" He sighed exasperatedly.

Ducky smiled at his friend and said nothing.

Gibbs rolled his eyes. "Ducky, I feel fine. And I would appreciate it if you would kindly tell Abby that, as apparently she refuses to listen to me."

Ducky looked Gibbs over thoroughly from a doctor's eye. "Jethro," he began. "Abigail is just worried about you. And so is Caitlin, for that matter."

Gibbs made a face. "Well then let them both know that I am fine. I'm just tired, that's all."

Ducky nodded.

**AN HOUR LATER**

Ducky walked into Abby's lab where he found her working on a blood culture. When she looked up at him she gave him an incredibly worried look.

"Well"

He shrugged. "He told me that he's fine my dear. However I did notice that he is exceedingly pale, as you pointed out."

Abby nodded, still not entirely convinced. It wasn't that she didn't trust Ducky's opinion, but something told her that Gibbs had played him- and her, for that matter.

Just then the elevator dinged and announced someone coming. They both turned to see Kate, Tony and Gibbs step off the elevator.

"Abby tell please tell me that you have something for us" Kate begged.

Abby smirked at her. "Aw, poor Kate… Are the guys giving you a hard time"

Kate nodded, a mock puppy look on her face. Kate cast a glance at Ducky and frowned slightly.

"Ducky, are you bugging Abby again" asked Tony teasingly.

Abby glared at him. She was always incredibly over-protective of Ducky, but as she knew the real reason he was down here, she wasn't about to let Tony mock him. "Very funny DiNozzo." Her voice was incredibly lacking in even the slightest signs of amusement. "Actually, _Ducky_ was consulting me on something." She turned to her mentor- who also served as her father figure the majority of the time. "I'll get right on it Ducky."

With that the Pathologist left the lab.

**END OF SHIFT**

Abby shut down her computer and went up to the bullpen, fully intent upon checking that Gibbs was doing okay. She got there only to find his desk empty. She noticed that Tony was sitting at his own desk, typing vigorously on the computer.

"Tony, where's the Boss-man"

He pointed distractedly towards the men's room.

She nodded, almost to herself. Then, as if only just remembering that he was there, she turned back to Tony. "Did he seem okay"

Tony looked at her. "If you mean other that seeming moodier- a lot moodier- then yeah, he's absolutely wonderful Abby."

Just then he saw Gibbs come down the stairs.

"Of course, don't know why you're asking me, ask him yourself…" He indicated the stairs with a nod of his head and she turned slightly.

Before Abby could even open her mouth, Gibbs was already barking at poor Tony. "Hey, are your reports done"

Tony nodded, almost fearfully.

"Good, then get out of here."

Tony didn't need to be told twice. He gathered his bag and jacket into his arms with record speed, bidding them a very hasty farewell.

Gibbs looked at Abby and smiled slightly. "Ready to leave Abbs"

She nodded, not turning around. She watched him walking towards the elevator.

He turned and frowned at her. "Hey Abbs, you coming or are you just going to sleep here?"

His voice, though a little shaky, brought her out of her quiet reverie. "Yeah, yeah, I hear you. I'm coming." She ran to catch up with him, but not before finishing her thoughts. He was walking sluggishly. And now, more than ever, she wanted to know why.


	3. Wondering

A/N: This chapter and all following chapters are written by me. Enjoy.

Chapter 3

Rather than keeping even pace with Gibbs in the parking lot while they walked to his car, Abby walked slightly behind him, to try to gather data by watching his every move, except it wasn't quite working. If she would get too far behind him, he'd turn to see where she'd gone and if she stared too long he'd feel her eyes on him and glare at her…he really was grumpier than usual.

She tried once more…dropping back a little, slowly looking him up and down and noticing the minute details along the way…his normally perfect posture was somewhat slumped, he was moving a little stiffly it seemed, and well...if Gibbs would ever come close to dragging his feet when he walked, he was close today.

_It's as if he hasn't slept in a week…but I know for a fact that isn't the tru—_Abby's thoughts were cut short when she bumped into Gibbs' chest. Unbeknownst to her, he had again caught her studying him and had finally had enough.

"Abby, what are you doing?" he asked, a slight questioning frown present on his face.

"I, uhm…" Abby stammered, then her face lit up mischievously, "I was admiring the view, and what a mighty fine view it is…c'mon! Turn around so I can keep viewing!" She attempted to turn him around, only half-pretending to try and get another look at his posterior.

Gibbs seemed to consider what she had said, and he smiled and shrugged before continuing toward the car. "Carry on."

When they reached his car he opened her door and once she was in, continued around to the driver's side. Her eyes followed him, and she could have sworn he leaned up against the car for a moment before getting in…but if he did it was very briefly. _Oh come on, Abby, now you're exaggerating the situation._ But when he did get behind the wheel, she knew she heard him swear under his breath, and she saw a fleeting instant of pain on his face before he started the car and they were off.

They had their normal 'how was your day?' conversation, during which Abby poked subtly at his visit with Ducky, but Gibbs would reveal nothing, so she gave up as he really didn't seem to be doing any worse than earlier. She was, in fact, nearly ready to dismiss her worries for the time being until she noticed that they were no longer headed in the direction of his house.

"Hey, boss-man, what's up?" she asked in confusion, seeing that they were headed for her house. "I told you that I haven't cleaned in like, well, a couple months..."

"I know. I figured maybe you could take this opportunity to do so, since I have a couple of errands to run this evening."

"Nah, I'll just come with you…and I rather like it when the authentic cobwebs build up, leaves me less decorating." She grinned, but he didn't seem to be buying it.

"Abbs, I'll only be a couple of hours, and trust me, my errands aren't even as exciting as cleaning your house."

Okay, something was definitely up with him. Since when did he have 'boring errands' to run that he wouldn't tell her about? Perhaps it was best to just trust his judgment. "All right, see ya later boss-man!" Abby gave him a peck on the cheek and got out of the car. She waved, although half-heartedly, as he drove off down the street. His skin hadn't felt quite normal to her lips…not quite feverish, but not regular-everyday-Gibbs-ish either. Yes, she would trust his judgment for the moment, but later she was going to get to the bottom of this.

**THREE HOURS LATER**

Abby was in her kitchen, with all of her coffee mugs, wine goblets, and other assorted drink containers lined up on her countertop. She had them arranged first by color, then by size when color had produced too large of groups (namely black and clear glass). This cleaning and reorganizing was rather enjoyable after a while. A couple more evenings like this and the entire house would be in order. Gibbs had been right…Gibbs! Abby stood up quickly and looked at the clock. His couple of hours were up. Where was he?

After checking her cell phone for messages and finding none, she called his house, and getting no answer, tried his cell. Voice mail. Waiting ten minutes, she tried his cell one more time. Sighing, she wandered back to her living room to get her car keys. The organizing of her vampire-bat collection would just have to wait for another day.


	4. Those Ninja Types

Chapter 4

Gibbs crouched low to the ground. It was a starless night, and he was at least partially obscured by the thorny shrubs that grew on the hillside. His focus was on the small group of vehicles at a distance of about 60 yards downhill, so it was unlikely that he would be spotted, but experience had shown that one could never be too careful.

He held the binoculars up to his eyes once more, watching the exchange taking place below. His attempt at bugging the small convoy of vehicles had been made the night before, and while it was a good attempt, he'd found himself rudely interrupted by a rifle to the ribcage. Luckily the goon that hit him was far enough out of the loop that he didn't know who Gibbs was. Gibbs, to his credit, didn't allow the guy the opportunity to find out either. The rifle knocked him to the side, but he rolled and came up swinging. A swipe across the face from Gibbs' Sig and a bag of pipe-wrenches—and other tools that didn't exactly fit with Gibbs' understanding of this situation—to the back, and he was down for the count having never seen the NCIS agent's face. Gibbs had then hefted the tools back onto the utility trailer, swearing at the pain from his ribs, and made a hasty exit.

So, having nothing to listen to tonight, Gibbs settled for watching through binoculars and recording the scene with a tiny video camera especially equipped for dark conditions. He would take it to Abby in the morning and ask her to enhance it as much as possible. Gibbs heard voices just then, and was instantly alert, taken away from his thoughts. The voices were too close…below him and to his left…and coming his way from the sound of it.

Gibbs cursed inwardly. As silently as possible he took the camera off its tripod and stuffed both in his pack. Then he hit the ground and made his way uphill slowly, to where he was better hidden by the shrubs.

"…saw movement up here. Said he thought it might have been the same guy from last night."

"Yeah, well, watch yourself, man. This guy got straight-up medieval on Carter's ass. He's probably one of them damn ninja types."

"And what would you know about that? In my experience, ninjas don't generally let themselves be caught red-handed!"

"And guys like us tryin' to sneak up on people don't generally talk so much, Tony! Besides, we wouldn't be out here lookin' for him if we had 'caught him red-handed' as you said." He shoved his companion a step or two away in annoyance, continuing to scan the landscape for any sign of an intruder, but turned back when he heard a muffled grunt, followed by a distinctive "oof!" "Hey, Tony, you walk much? Get up. We gotta get moving." It was then that he noticed the hand pinned beneath Tony's rump.

"Hey, get up, I think we've just found us a ninja-boy."

"What? Where?"

"Right here." Three things then happened before the goon named Tony or his nameless pal could react. The hand yanked itself out from under Tony, smacked the back of his head (which only seemed natural under the circumstances, even though this wasn't the same Tony), and then the night was washed out with a blinding red.

"What the hell kind of ninja tactic is this?" The goon shrieked, as he tried to put out the flames that licked at his trouser cuff from the flare that had been set off right next to him.

"Hey, where are you man? I can't see a thing!" Tony took a few steps, tripping over his own feet, and impacting with what felt like another body, and some very prickly vegetation, on his way to the ground.

"Boo!" Gibbs whispered to Tony, attempting to shove him away. This apparently only served to send the thug into a panic, and he started swinging blindly at the 'ninja' beneath him. Both men struggled to their feet, and Gibbs blocked a blow with his forearm, and dodged the man's other fist which now wielded a clump of the non-cuddly native vegetation. In doing so, however, Gibbs lost his footing and found himself careening down the hillside.

He felt his jacket catch at one point, and heard the fabric rip, felt the burn of broken skin as something stabbed at his arm, and then he was off once more. _So this is what an avalanche feels like_, he mused, finally able to slow his progress after smacking into the hillside countless times. Gibbs sat up slowly, wincing, and tried to assess the situation. It seemed his descent had taken him back in the direction of his vehicle and not toward the little pow-wow he had been monitoring. From the two shadows stalking away straight down the hill toward their assumed colleagues, it didn't appear he was going to be searched for again by Tony and company. He didn't figure he had much time before the rest of the party would break up completely and the area would be searched though, so he straightened his backpack (that seemed unscathed after its latest tumble) and took off toward his car as quickly as he could manage. He was getting too old for this.

A/N: Okay, I promise that Abby and Gibbs will both be in the next chapter. This was just to set up the plot a bit, so bear with me. Your reviews are appreciated. :)


	5. Caught

Chapter 5

Abby piloted her hearse through the streets near Gibbs' neighborhood, looking for him in all the usual and boring places, since he had led her to believe that this would be the basis of his evening. The cashier at the corner grocery had not seen him that evening, he wasn't picking up supplies for his boat, nor were there any on order (she'd checked with the clerk at the hardware store). There was no sign of him at his coffee dealer, even though she had come back several times. Baffled and concerned, Abby turned back toward his house. She was surprised, yet immensely relieved to find his lights on and his car in the drive.

Parking behind his car, she bounced up the steps and let herself in, intending to surprise him. She was so intent on shutting the door quietly, and slinking toward the kitchen, that she almost yelped when a shadow fell over her from behind. She spun around. "Good grief, Gibbs! Are you trying to give me a heart attack?"

"Nope. Are you trying to sneak up on me again?"

Abby didn't answer. Instead she wrapped her arms around his neck and planted a kiss square on his lips. She finally pulled away and took a step back. "Maybe." She looked him up and down, and her relief at seeing him drained away, replaced by concern. His clothing was rumpled, with splotches of dirt covering it. The dirt didn't spare his face either, and apparently neither had some small sharp object, judging by the cut near his temple. "What happened to you? You haven't been answering your cell, and you were late. You're never late, Gibbs."

He opened his mouth, but she interrupted him, "And don't tell me you were running 'boring' errands." She glanced downward and her gaze fixed on a sizable streak of maroon that was marring the pale skin of her arm. "Is that blood?" Her eyes snapped back up to lock on his.

"Abby…"

She was marching toward him, a determined look in her eyes. "Let me see."

"It's just a scratch." Gibbs sighed tiredly.

"And I just want to see it." She quickly ascertained the location of the 'scratch' when she saw the sleeve of his jacket, which was virtually shredded. Abby tried to peer through the torn fabric at his arm, but couldn't make out much except for blood and what looked like some sort of thorns. "All right, jacket off. I can't see anything this way." She started unzipping his coat, struggling as the zipper stuck halfway down.

In spite of his annoyance, Gibbs' face broke into a smile as he watched her.

Eventually the zipper relented and she looked back up at him while sliding the coat off his shoulders. "What? You think this is funny?" She glared at him, but turned her focus back to the task at hand. She felt him stiffen when she slid the sleeve carefully down his arm, and actually winced herself at first sight of his injury. Most of the side of his arm looked as though it had seen sustained friction against a not-so-plush carpet, and the skin was gouged rather deeply in at least two places.

"The phrase is 'tiptoe through the tulips', Gibbs, not 'thrash through the thorns'. This needs to be cleaned out, and I think Ducky ought to have a look at it too. You've got about a hundred bucks worth of thorns in there, Boss-man, so where are my black roses?" She grinned at him, hoping to lighten his mood for whatever objection he was about to throw back at her.

Gibbs turned and headed for the stairs. "I'll buy you two hundred bucks' worth of black roses if you'll leave Ducky out of this, Abbs."

She moved quickly, blocking his way to the stairs. "No deal. But I'll make you a counter-offer. I'll do what I can for it tonight, and if it looks fine in the morning, then you buy me roses and we'll leave Ducky out of it. If it looks like it's getting infected, Ducky gets to look first thing in the morning and your arm won't fall off." She smiled sweetly at him.

Gibbs snorted. "How can I refuse an offer like that?"

"You can't."

"Well? What are you waiting for? Let's get this over with."

"Right." She bounced up the stairs and he trudged after her toward his bathroom.


	6. In De Nile

Chapter 6

A/N: Thanks to all who have reviewed. I appreciate the feedback! As a side note, I had most of this chapter written when I posted the last one, so apparently some of you are reading my mind…or I'm reading yours…or something. Weird. Oh well, on with the next chapter. Enjoy!

**

* * *

****30 MINUTES LATER**

"Ow! Jeez, Abby. Give an old man a break!"

"I know it hurts, but I have to get them all out. The good news is that I think that was the last one." She dropped the thorn into a cup with the tweezers.

"You _think_? Abby!"

The Goth quickly turned her attention back to her magnifying glass, avoiding his glare. She studied various parts of his arm intently, and at long last, set the magnifier and tweezers aside. "Yep, that's all of them!" she announced triumphantly.

"It's about damn time," he grumbled, leaning his back against the wall and closing his eyes for a moment.

"Gibbs." Abby reached over and smoothed his hair back gently. He looked paler than he had that afternoon, if that was possible, and his forehead felt damp to her touch.

"I know, part two coming up. Go ahead." He opened his eyes and steeled himself, his Marine training being all that allowed his expression to remain neutral while Abby more or less poured antiseptic over his arm. She dabbed some on the scrapes on his face for good measure before capping the bottle and setting it aside.

"Almost done, Boss-man," Abby said, placing gauze pads over the still-bleeding areas and winding thinner gauze around the rest of his arm. Taping up the ends and admiring her work, a mischievous glint appeared in her eyes. "You know, you'd make a rather sexy mummy, Gibbs."

"Abbs, do you know what word I would use to describe your bedside manner?"

"About to be extremely satisfying?" She winked at him suggestively.

"No. Creepy!" he rubbed at his face with his hands, concealing his smirk and half expecting to find more thorns stuck in his face for Abby to torture him with.

"But what's creepy about mummies, Gibbs? They're just people too."

"I am _not_ going to ask how many Caff-Pows you've had tonight, Abby." He stood stiffly, and grimaced as he headed for the door. He may not be too old for this line of work, but his ribs certainly were, and he had the distinct feeling that so was his arm.

"Where do you think you're going?" she followed him into the hallway.

"Downstairs. I need coffee."

"No you don't."

He turned and looked at her, eyebrow raised at her uncharacteristically stern look.

"Gibbs, no matter how handsome you look to me, you still look like hell. You can deny it all you want, but I can tell you're not feeling well, and lost sleep due to caffeine isn't going to fix that."

Her words seemed to have more power over him than his own denial, because Gibbs' world suddenly began to tilt on its axis. He put one hand against the wall, rubbing his eyes with the other. Gibbs started walking back toward Abby when the hallway skewed at a 45 degree angle. He swayed, though if asked later he would never admit to it.

"Jethro?" Abby was at his side before she realized she'd moved. When he didn't answer her, she tried again, concerned. "Earth to Gibbs." She moved so she was standing in his line of vision, but he seemed to be looking through her. Lightly tracing her fingers down his face, she frowned at how warm he felt. Finally his gaze focused on her. "Hey, what do you say we move this party to the bedroom before you pass out?" she smiled sympathetically.

"I hate it when you're right." Gibbs sighed, but allowed her to guide him toward his bedroom. He didn't trust his hallway to remain in its upright and locked position at the moment.

"Yes, but now you get to experience more of my bedside manner." Abby walked behind him, one hand on his elbow, the other on his waist to steady him. She sat him down on the edge of the bed.

"I hear it's extremely satisfying." He smirked at her tiredly.

"You know it." Abby grinned and winked at him, but signed 'stay put' as she disappeared into the bathroom. A moment later she returned and handed him a glass of water along with some aspirin. He took the pills without argument and set the glass aside. She lingered while he changed into a pair of sweats, as he still wasn't steady enough on his feet for her liking.

Gibbs sat down again, wondering – not for the first time that night – if he should tell Abby of the events that had transpired the last couple of evenings, the real reason why he'd needed to be looked after tonight. She would figure it out in due time anyway, as the case wasn't going to disappear and she wasn't clueless, but right now it would probably just cause her to worry more. He felt a cool hand on his cheek and looked up from his thoughts to meet her questioning eyes. "I've got a lot on my mind tonight, Abbs," he offered by way of explanation and she nodded, but her eyes said she knew there was more to it.

"Why don't you lie down and relax, and I'll tell you a bedtime story when I get back." Abby winked at him again, turning the covers back.

"Where are you going?"

She knew it was probably mean to tease him in his present condition, but she couldn't resist. "Downstairs. I need coffee." He glared at her and started to get up, but she put her hands on his shoulders, forcing him back down. "Nope. Lie down or you don't get to hear the story. And trust me, you want to hear the story." She wiggled her eyebrows at him, and he gave her an exasperated sigh, but did as he was told, glad when she drew a blanket over him. The room was freezing and not exactly stationary. Abby bent down and kissed his forehead, before heading for the door.

When she returned a few minutes later, his eyes were closed, and the blankets had been pushed aside. Quietly, she set down the items she was carrying on the nightstand, then turned back, studying him. His face was slightly flushed, not pale as it had been for most of the day. Gently brushing his hair away she placed a cool cloth on his forehead, then carefully rested an ice pack against his arm in hope that it would ease the burning she was sure his raw skin was causing.

Satisfied that he was comfortable for the moment, she changed into her favorite of his Marines t-shirts and settled in bed next to him, staring at the ceiling. He had been right before, she'd had too much caffeine that evening, but it was beginning to wear off. _Probably from all the excitement…_ she thought wryly. To her knowledge, he wasn't working on any stake-outs at the moment, but she had no better explanation for his injuries. She definitely wanted to press the subject further, but knew that he needed to sleep. Abby decided to try to do the same. She'd try to get more answers out of him in the morning.

"So, about that bedtime story…"

Abby jumped. "Gibbs! Stop doing that!"

"Doing what?" he replied sleepily.

"Pretending to be asleep when you're really not."

"Who says I was pretending?" he reached out his good arm and drew her to him carefully, mindful of his ribs. "Someone wouldn't let me have my coffee."

Abby could hear the undercurrents of humor in his voice as she snuggled against his too-warm body. She smiled, though he couldn't see it in the dark. "Well if it makes you feel any better, someone got sidetracked and didn't get any coffee either."

"I noticed." He shivered and Abby pulled the covers back over them both. "Now, are you going to tell me the story or are you going to make me guess what it's about?"

"Well, while I would love to hear your guesses, it's already late, so I'll just tell you. It's a better story if you're surprised anyway. Are you ready?"

"Hit me, Abbs."

"It's not that kind of a story, Gibbs, though if you still want me to later…"

Gibbs chuckled. "Just tell me the story."

"Okay. So once upon a time in ancient Egypt, this one pharaoh was really grouchy, right? And his assistant decided that he would be less grouchy as a mummy, so…"

"Abby!"


	7. We're Late

Chapter 7

A/N: Thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter. Your input keeps me going! My apologies that this one took so long, but Software Engineering semester projects are a force to be reckoned with! This chapter is pretty long to make up for it, though. ;)

I've got two different directions in mind that I could possibly go with the next chapter, so feel free to give your input for what you want to see happen from here on and we'll see which one of the directions it translates to (as you guys seem to read my mind). Anyway, enough chatter. Enjoy, and please review if you're so inclined!

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Abby awoke the next morning and turned over, expecting to find Gibbs beside her. She was surprised to find the other side of the bed empty and the sheets cool, indicating that he'd probably gotten up some time ago. She was a little annoyed that he hadn't woken her, but it was still early and it wasn't like he could leave for work without her, she mused. Parking behind him had definitely been a good move the night before. Granted, she was sure he could locate her keys should he so choose.

Going to his closet, she located a change of clothes that she'd stashed some time ago. She smiled. Either he hadn't noticed or he didn't mind, because the topic had never been raised. Abby decided that it was the latter on her way to the shower.

**The ever popular: 30 MINUTES LATER**

Abby's nose followed the smell of coffee down the stairs, into the kitchen, and past Gibbs' newspaper, her lips finding his cheek. "Good morning, my pharaoh."

"Are you ready to go? We're leaving in three minutes or we'll be late." Gibbs hardly glanced up from his paper.

"Someone hasn't had their sprinkle today…" Abby grumbled, and decided to gauge his true mood. She snatched his coffee mug gracefully and was well out of his reach before he could stop her. It earned her a glare, but he didn't make a move to take back the coffee, try to blackmail her with hostage situations involving Caff-Pows, or even threaten her very existence. So that put his mood where? Somewhere between very preoccupied and dead? She perched on the countertop and watched him quietly over the rim of the mug. "How's the arm?"

"Late, like the rest of us. Your hearse is blocking my driveway."

"Only until we're both sitting in it."

"I don't think…"

"We should take two cars? I was just thinking the same thing. Come on, Boss-man, time's a-wasting!" She bounced out the door and was planted behind the wheel, full-on ready to be stubborn and not move the vehicle until he joined her, but he spoiled her fun and got into the passenger side without objection. _Probably just to save time_, she thought. It was just as well. After the previous evening, she wasn't convinced he was well enough to be going to work, but as she wouldn't convince him of that come hell or high water, she would settle for making sure he didn't kill himself getting there.

The trip passed virtually without conversation. Abby would cast concerned glances at Gibbs, and he would alternately ignore her or glance back with annoyance. She could see the lines of tension on his face, and it did little to put her mind at ease about how he was doing. When the two of them entered the bullpen sometime later to find that the rest of the team had not yet arrived, Abby was considering making her case that he go have Ducky check him over. Before she could open her mouth, however, she heard footsteps on the stairs above her, and looked up to see the director on the landing.

"Jethro, I need you in MTAC."

Gibbs exchanged a look with the director, but Abby couldn't read his expression. "I'll be right there, Jen." He threw his coat over the back of the chair and headed for the stairs, not glancing back at Abby.

"Good luck, Director." Abby said to the empty room and sighed, heading for the elevator.

* * *

After an hour of actual work on evidence and another hour's worth of cleaning and organizing her lab, then 40 minutes of pacing around said lab, Abby was going stir-crazy. She knew her concern was irrational. It was Gibbs, for heaven's sake. Nothing kept him under the weather for more than five minutes…which was exactly why she was worried. She was quite sure that his fever wasn't due to his arm having gotten infected, but if he was fighting off some other illness then he was more prone to infection…

Abby gave herself a Gibbs-esque smack to the back of the head, and walked purposefully toward the elevator. She arrived in the bullpen and looked around, spotting Kate at her desk, but not seeing Tony, McGee, or Gibbs. "Hey Kate, have you seen Gibbs this morning?"

"Yeah, when he walked by and told me to stay and work the case from this end. He and the guys are off somewhere on orders from the director. I don't know anything more than that, and Gibbs didn't seem willing to elaborate. I think he's mad at me."

"He's mad at everyone today," Abby said, rolling her eyes.

"But I thought you hadn't seen him?" Kate was looking at her questioningly.

"For about as long as you…I just wondered where he was now, I needed to ask him about some evidence I was running." Abby didn't think it would be in anyone's best interest to let her and Gibbs' relationship to come to light right at the moment. "You know what, maybe Ducky can help. Thanks Kate!" Abby turned and almost ran toward the elevator.

"No problem." Kate watched her go, a bit confused. This _was_ Abby, though, and that said enough in and of itself.

* * *

"Good morning, Abigail. Would you like some tea?" Ducky greeted as the doors to Autopsy slid open.

"Yes, Ducky. Thanks." She took a sip from the steaming cup he handed her, and started pacing.

"Are you all right, my dear? You seem a little tense."

"Ducky, have you seen Gibbs this morning?" Abby said with a feeling of déjà vu. She had come to ask the doctor about Gibbs at almost the same time the previous morning.

"No, I'm afraid not. I take it you are still concerned about his health?"

Abby weighed her options before answering, figuring that since he was out working a case, he wouldn't find out about anything she said until a later time anyway. "Well, I went to see him last night, and he had just gotten back from a stake-out with a rose bush, but he didn't really tell me what was going on…"

"A rose bush? Why in the world was he staking out a rose bush?" Ducky gave her a bewildered frown.

"Well it wasn't a rose bush exactly, but it had just as many thorns." She went on to tell him the rest of the story, including his lack of life-or-death interest in coffee that morning. "But at least his fever seems to have gone down some," she concluded.

"That often happens early in the day. Don't worry, my dear. If I see Jethro today, I will be sure to check him over whether he likes it or not."

"Thanks, but I doubt you'll see him. He has a sixth sense about these sorts of things. He probably knows that I'm here right now."

"No doubt." Ducky winked and patted her on the back before starting to arrange some odds and ends in a cabinet.

Having finished her tea, Abby said goodbye to Ducky and wandered back to her lab, put at ease somewhat by the fact that Gibbs would get cornered by either herself or Ducky when he got back to NCIS.

* * *

"Where are we headed, Boss?" Tony asked as they raced toward Virginia. He was speeding at least 20 mph over the speed limit, mostly to please Gibbs. The man was in a terrible mood and was in a terrible hurry to match. DiNozzo had just arrived at his desk that morning when Gibbs exited MTAC and yelled at him to grab his gear. They had a case, and they were late…or something. His questions had been met by glares and one particularly vicious smack to the head when Tony had dared to speculate about the location of Gibbs' car.

"Virginia." Gibbs finally said, pausing just long enough to annoy Tony. "A body was found early this morning and we're going to make sure that there won't be a repeat occurrence."

"There's reason to suspect it was a serial killing, Boss?"

"Something like that, yeah."

An hour or so later, Tony was directed off the highway and onto a dirt road. He winced as dust billowed up around his previously-spotless Mustang. At least it was also newly waxed. The dirt wouldn't stick as much. 18.5 miles into the middle of nowhere, Tony pulled off the road and down into a small ravine. Gibbs didn't want the car visible from the road. Tony didn't want road-residue on his metallic midnight blue clear-coat paint, but car washes were less expensive than emergency room bills to treat Gibbs-induced concussions, so into the ravine it was.

"Pop the trunk, DiNozzo."

Tony did as instructed once more, and Gibbs went around the back of the vehicle, returning a few moments later with a black briefcase. Several file folders were soon passed around to Tony and McGee, Gibbs keeping the one with the director's seal on it. He gave them a few minutes to read, and waited for the questions.

"Sounds like a Grisham novel I read once," McGee commented.

"Except for the lack of lawyers."

"And the incredibly unimportant fact that this is _real_," Gibbs said sarcastically, glaring at them.

Tony made a point of looking back at the file intently. "So Corporal Madison went into debt, got in deep with this Spezzo character, couldn't pay him back, and got whacked. Sounds like a classic loan-shark-gone-wrong story to me."

"Until Spezzo was linked with the mafia through some fraudulent check-writing and he was put away for ten years," McGee added.

"Give or take a couple, McGee. Says here he was released on parole three weeks ago due to good behavior and lack of DNA evidence to support a second trial for murder."

"The deceased isn't military, Boss. Why are we investigating the case?" McGee looked confused.

"If we can prove a link to Madison's murder, then his death will have been a serial murder and the case will still be under our jurisdiction. And since Gibbs was the arresting officer, the director didn't figure handing it over to the FBI would be a smart idea. Not that it didn't take some convincing on your part though, huh Boss?" Tony grinned.

"Ya think, DiNozzo? That's why we're late."

"So where's the crime scene, Boss?"

"Back in D.C. Kate and Ziva will be taking care of it as soon as they're briefed by the director."

"Then, um, what exactly are we late for, Boss?" McGee looked nervous, afraid he'd somehow missed some painfully obvious point. He calmed down a little when he realized that Tony hadn't made fun of his question, but was instead waiting for Gibbs to answer.

"We're going to find the murder weapon."

"Wouldn't the murder weapon be closer to the scene of the crime?"

"Not if this guy is based out here on other business, McGee. He may be a murderer, but it's not the only function in his job description. Come on, we're going for a little walk."

Their 'little' walk turned into a three-mile hike through the woods. The agents followed a small stream for a while before Gibbs abruptly turned left. They trekked uphill then, and just when Tony thought McGee was going to die from shortness of breath, they stopped near a small stand of pine trees. "You two, stay out of sight. I'll be right back."

"You heard the man, Probie. Go climb a tree!"

McGee glared at Tony, and then disappeared behind one of the large spruce trees. Tony soon followed, surprised to find a sort of bunker, perfectly obscured from view on all sides by trees except where they'd entered. "You know, this would be a perfect hunting spot. Lots of room, no poison ivy, a great view of Death Valley…" Tony had crouched down to see through the lower branches of the trees. The ground sloped gently for about fifteen feet, then fell away in a rather steep slope leading down to a valley filled with clumps of some kind of prickly vegetation that reminded him of tangled coils of razor wire. "You know, McGee, poison ivy's probably a field day compared to that stuff."

"Why don't you go try it out and let me know?" McGee grinned.

"Ha ha. I would, Probie, but I've never had the misfortune of having poison ivy, so there'd be nothing for me to compare it to."

"I'm sure I can find you a patch of poison ivy, DiNozzo. I just might if you don't get our equipment set up."

McGee sent a smug smile Tony's way.

"Same goes for you, McGee."

"Yes, Boss." McGee quickly started unpacking gear, not seeing Gibbs' grin as he tried to clean dirt out of the flare gun he'd brought back with him.

* * *

The three agents were camped out in their bunker, surveillance equipment set up all around them, and Tony was getting anxious to use some of it. "So when do these guys show up?"

"Oh, they're already out there, Tony. We just haven't seen them yet today."

"So you've seen them on a different day." It wasn't a question, and Tony was sure that Gibbs had let the detail slip on purpose. "And what were they doing?"

"They were preparing for a massive weapons trade. Spezzo's people are the buyers, according to the intel. The sellers are who we're interested in. They're members of a drug cartel operating out of Miami, but their operation's profile suggests traits of a second mafia, rivals of Spezzo's mafia."

"And let me guess, they want to have their money and keep their guns too?"

"Good guess."

"So whose side are we on, Boss? Mafia #1 or Mafia #2?"

"Neither. But we're going to make sure Spezzo doesn't take a drug runner's bullet."

"Right. Because that would mean he wouldn't get to take yours."

"Another good guess. The FBI can deal with the mafia. Spezzo's not getting off so easily if I can help it." Gibbs gave Tony a wry smile.

"So how long do we wait?" McGee asked.

"Oh, I don't know, Probie, wouldn't you say twenty minutes is long enough? If nobody shows up I think I'll just get in from the cold, have a nice espresso, and forget the whole damn thing!" Tony's sarcastic tone was matched by a roll of his eyes.

"Speaking of the cold, DiNozzo, where's the rest of our gear?" Gibbs stalled the impending argument.

"Boss?"

"The sky's not getting any sunnier, DiNozzo." As if to make sure Gibbs' words were the honest truth, icy raindrops began pelting them.

DiNozzo dug through his pack and pulled out a fold-up umbrella and opened it. Holding it with one hand, he wasn't paying much attention as he began going through the pack once more, so he didn't notice McGee sneak up behind him and deftly snatch the umbrella from his grasp. Tony turned his best death glare on McGee and moved to retake his umbrella…

"Don't even think about it if you value your current employment."

Tony cursed to himself and looked decidedly dejected as McGee and Gibbs shared the umbrella the best they could. He pulled a large black garbage bag from his pack, slashed a hole in it for his head, and pulled it on.

* * *

Three hours passed without incident—if you didn't call rain turning to sleet and then to moderately heavy snow an incident—and Tony was about ready to risk getting smacked by Gibbs to repeat McGee's earlier question about how long it was strictly necessary for them to continue with this stakeout. He found himself being forced to the ground before he had the chance though, Gibbs telling him in a low voice to stay quiet. Tony nodded once in understanding, then shifted his position a bit when Gibbs' hand was removed from his shoulder. McGee was in a similar position to him on the other side of Gibbs, and he peered through the trees to see what his colleagues were looking at so intently.

He spotted a man, a few inches taller than Gibbs, moving in their general direction up the slope. When he reached a distance of about eight yards, Tony caught a glimpse of his face and cringed inwardly. If the black eyes, bruised jaw and nose were any indication, the man had come into rather close contact with some not-so-soft objects. He felt Gibbs tense next to him.

"It's show time, DiNozzo," Gibbs whispered, reaching out and tapping McGee on the shoulder to get his attention. He used hand signals to indicate that he was going to tail Carter, whom he had quickly identified after his experience the other night, and that DiNozzo should follow him at a distance, McGee bringing up the rear a little way behind Tony.

DiNozzo and McGee nodded, turning their attention back toward the man who seemed to be headed directly for their position, but Gibbs didn't seem terribly worried for some reason, so Tony relaxed minutely and waited. Eventually, the man veered away from their position, though he was way too close for comfort when it finally happened, within ten feet of the trees that hid the agents from view. If he knew they were there, he gave no indication.

Gibbs slowly counted down from ten with his hands, before quietly getting up from the ground, and moving toward the entrance of their crater. He drew his gun as he went, and was soon out of the sight of the two younger agents. Tony counted to ten in his own mind before turning to McGee and repeating Gibbs' countdown. He then stood, drew his gun, and followed Gibbs, knowing McGee would be twenty seconds behind him.

With Gibbs already quite far ahead of him, Tony increased his pace, closing to about 20 yards so he was able to see both Gibbs and the man they were tracking, yet hopefully stay out of sight of their mark should it be necessary. As they moved along, DiNozzo cursed the weather. He was freezing, although 'frozen solid' seemed the more accurate description, despite the fact that he was running. Being out in the rain for a couple of hours and then lying in the snow tended to do that to a person. He wished that he had a better idea of what Gibbs was planning. Following the man back to his base was a given. Once there they could find Spezzo and…Tony slowed to a halt, seeing Gibbs change direction and head _away_ from their man. He scanned the area, searching for a possible motive for his boss's actions, and not coming up with any plausible ones, broke off his pursuit and went after Gibbs.

Tony again caught sight of the older agent, and made to close on his position to find out how he wished to proceed. He froze in his tracks when two men seemingly appeared from nowhere behind Gibbs. The shorter of the two grabbed Gibbs by the arm and spun him around, and Tony thought he saw a look of pain cross Gibbs' face before the other man's fist connected with it. It wasn't the hardest punch Tony had ever seen come from someone of the man's considerable stature, but it sent Gibbs reeling. As the older agent regained his footing and drew back to return the blow, the shorter man struck out, connecting with Gibbs' infamous gut, and then he was on his knees. Tony stared in disbelief. Something was very wrong with this picture. Gibbs didn't just go down without a fight.

While the two men drug a dazed Gibbs to his feet and steered him roughly through the snow, Tony started to move off into the trees, intending to circle around and track the men holding Gibbs more closely without giving away his position. Something caught his ankle then, and a heavy weight between his shoulder blades knocked the air from his lungs. Tony hit the ground and his world went black.


	8. The Slash and Tackle Routine

A/N: I'm so sorry for the delay in posting this. I have had extreme writer's block since the semester started up again. I also apologize that the story has strayed from its original summary quite a bit…but I promise that it is heading back in that direction. I just had to get this pesky plot out of the way first. ;) Bear with me, you will find out what's happening to Gibbs in the next chapter, with Gibbs/Abby goodness to follow…but I hope you enjoy this necessary in-between chapter and that you'll continue to read and review!

* * *

Chapter 8

Tony felt something sharp and slimy digging into his face and groaned. A part of his consciousness wondered how something could be both sharp and slimy, but neither adjective was welcome on his face, so he tried to shift away from it. He groaned and opened his eyes, then suddenly bolted upright as his memory of what he was doing out in the woods returned to him.

Pain blossomed between his shoulders with the quick motion and spread like fire through his back and neck, to the point that his vision grew hazy for several seconds. He dropped back to his hands and knees, trying not to pass out again. When he could see more clearly, Tony glanced nervously around, checking to see if whatever had hit him was still present. Not locating any objects heavy enough to have knocked him out, or any people for that matter, he crawled a few feet to a nearby tree and used it to pull himself up off the ground, slowly this time. He felt a little light-headed at first, but at least he avoided the feeling of a torch being taken to his back this time. Tony did however wince when he put his weight on his right ankle, which he found was swelling, most likely as a result of getting tangled in some snow-obscured undergrowth on his way to the ground. _Great, just what Gibbs needs, half of his backup limping around while he's being held by not just one, but likely two mafias!_ Tony thought, annoyed at his rotten luck. He decided to try to raise McGee on the radio. Maybe if he could locate the other agent they would have better luck getting Gibbs back and getting the hell out of this blizzard.

"McGee!" DiNozzo hissed, keying on his radio mike.

"What?"

Tony jumped, turning to see McGee standing behind him, grinning at having startled his fellow agent. "Kill the grin, Probie. Those goons have Gibbs. Where the hell have you been?"

"Following them. Your pulse was strong, and you didn't look like you were going anywhere, but they were."

"Thanks for being so concerned and all, McGee!"

"I found their base."

"Because after all, your concern wasn't warranted. As you can see I'm perfectly fine. Let's go get Gibbs!" Tony gestured for McGee to lead the way and followed behind him, limping.

McGee slowed after a short distance and turned to Tony. "The base is just around the curve of this trail. There's a fence topped in razor wire, one gate with two armed guards, three large tents, and two Quonset-style buildings. The one they're holding Gibbs in has one end that's open, with one armed guard stationed at its entrance. Looks like they normally use it for vehicle storage."

"How can you be sure they haven't moved Gibbs to one of the other buildings?"

"Uh…well, I was close enough at one point that I could hear one of the men talking and he told his companion to take him straight to Spezzo, and they took him right to that building. He wasn't brought back out in the ten minutes I waited, so I thought that was the most likely place for him to have remained."

"You said that one end of the building is open. Is there any way to see inside of it?"

"You'd have to be looking into the open end, which is straight back from the main gate. With the vehicles inside, it's difficult to see much unless you get really close to the gate, and that could be a problem considering the guards."

"Oh, I don't know, Probie. You seem like you'd make a pretty good distraction." Tony grinned.

McGee looked apprehensive at Tony's somewhat-evil expression. "Why do you say that?"

"Come on, Probie, we're late. Just follow my lead and everything will be fine. You'll do great."

"Okay, but…"

"Just be ready to scream when the right moment arises."

"What? Tony!" McGee hissed, but DiNozzo was already moving off down the path, leaving McGee with little choice but to follow.

As they neared the end of the cover provided by the forest, Tony put out his arm, signaling McGee to stop. DiNozzo removed his makeshift rain slicker, and dropped his pack to the ground, digging out a large utility knife. He slashed the blade across his thigh.

"What the hell are you doing?!" McGee asked, a look on his face that clearly suggested he thought Tony had lost it.

Tony glanced up at McGee with a pained expression, not entirely due to the fact that he had just destroyed a costly pair of designer-label jeans. There was blood, as was the intended effect, but the wound wasn't serious. That wasn't to say it didn't smart though. "All part of the plan, Probie." Tony took the blade to the front of his shirt, though with less force this time, and only nicked his skin. Hacking a couple of holes in his coat and the other leg of his jeans for artistic value, this time being careful not to actually cut himself, Tony wiped the knife clean on his shirt and stowed it in his pack before turning to McGee. "When you see me drop to my knees, that's your queue. Don't be late!"

With that, Tony pulled his coat halfway off one shoulder—but not far enough to reveal his holster—ruffled his hair, and ran a hand down his face, leaving a streak of blood behind. His appearance complete, Tony staggered into the open, only half-faking the staggering part. He was still reeling a little from the getting-knocked-out portion of his day.

Raising his head for a moment to make sure of the guards' positions at the gate, and only seeing one of them rather than McGee's predicted two (he assumed that the other was the man currently arguing with the Quonset's guard), he dropped his head back to his chest and bent over slightly, his hands on his knees, stifling a smile. His plan would work considerably better now…well, assuming the 6' 5" giant didn't just decide to shoot him on sight.

Tony straightened a bit, keeping his shoulders appropriately slumped, and exaggerating his limp as he approached the man. "Ohhhh…" Tony groaned loudly, holding his stomach. "Thank God you're here…I didn't think I'd ever find anyone!"

"Who are you?" The guard asked warily, placing a hand on his sidearm, but not drawing it.

"I'm Terry. My buddy and I were out hiking, and we got a little turned around…and then the rain started. He tripped, bumped into me…and we both fell down the embankment…he's hurt real bad. Please…you've got to help us," Tony panted, putting on his best frantic act.

"We keep to ourselves out here, boy. You'd best do the same if you know what's good for you." He turned slightly, making sure his gun was visible.

Tony glanced at the gun, then back at the guard, eyes wide. He held up one hand, surrender-esque, the other still clutching his ribs. "Hey, take it easy…I'm not interested in any trouble. I just need to use a phone if you've got one. My cell broke in the fall and Tom doesn't believe in 'em." He cracked a smile, but when it seemed the guard was having none of it, he scrunched up his face, and dropped to his knees. He groaned, "Shit, my ribs…"

* * *

McGee was watching from the trees, carefully out of sight and waiting for Tony's signal. Problem was, he wasn't quite sure what he was supposed to do when the time came. Unfortunately, he was still figuring it out when he saw Tony go down. The guard moved closer to Tony, and that's when McGee saw his gun.

His conversation with Tony from a short time before replayed through his head, and McGee decided he'd do as he'd been told. So, he screamed. And he ran into the open, glancing behind him, as if he were being chased.

The guard, momentarily distracted from Tony by an odd shrieking sound, looked up to see a man come running out of the trees. The man was headed his way, but seemed much more concerned by whatever was following him than where he was going. Still…

The guard drew his gun, having all but forgotten about Tony, until he heard a very calm and deadly voice from below. "Drop it."

The guard looked back down to find a gun aimed at a rather unfortunate place below his chest, but above his knees. "Don't tell me—"

"If you don't drop it or you decide to yell for your minions, you won't be dead but you'll wish you were." Tony grinned his most evil grin as he watched the guard's gun fall to the ground. "See? That's so much—"

A black blur materialized out of nowhere and all Tony heard was an "Oof!" before the guard landed on the ground beside him, out cold. The black blur, magically transformed into McGee, landed unceremoniously on his posterior on Tony's other side.

"Better." Tony finished, his grin even wider if that was possible. "Nice entrance, Probie! Where'd you learn Judo?"

"I didn't. You just skipped that day in our hand-to-hand combat refresher course."

"Whatever. Let's stash him somewhere and go find Gibbs." The two agents drug the guard behind an equipment trailer, handcuffed him, and bound his ankles and mouth with some duct tape before cautiously making their way toward the side of the Quonset that Gibbs was being held in. The two men Tony had spotted earlier were still yelling at each other, which facilitated the agents' undetected movements. Tony motioned for McGee to move toward the back of the building. There were windows about every 20 feet, and he was hoping one of them would allow them to see what was going on. He crept toward the front of the building, crouched down, and stole a glance inside. Tweedle-dee and Tweedle-dumb were still into it over some girl they had met at a bar, though it didn't sound to Tony as if she'd been interested in either of them. He couldn't see all the way to the back of the building, but he could just make out voices over the yelling from the two idiots.

Finally, one of them stormed off, apparently having had enough, and headed away from the gate toward one of the tents. The other grabbed his beer off the hood of the truck he was standing by and kicked the tire viciously in frustration. Tony ducked back out of the building, just in time to hear someone cry out in pain. His eyes widened and he ran toward McGee's position. They looked through the grimy window and confirmed the owner of the voice they had both recognized moments before. Gibbs.


	9. The Element of Surprise

A/N: Well, it's been a while, but here is the next chapter for anyone who is still reading. There will be Abby/Gibbs in the next chapter. There was going to be some in this chapter, but since I haven't posted anything in forever and there's sort of a natural chapter ending spot here, that's what I'm going with. Hopefully I'll come up with a good ending for this soon, because I think that's what's been contributing to my writer's block on this story…not having a specific ending in mind. So yeah, if you have something you'd like to see or whatever, I will take that under advisement…if there's still anyone out there that is… ;)

* * *

Chapter 9

Tony and McGee peered through a small window, their only source of visual information on what was going on inside the building. Neither agent liked the sight before them. Three men surrounded Gibbs, who was tied securely to a chair. His hands weren't tied behind his back, but were bound in front of him, and with a sick feeling in his stomach Tony realized why, catching a glimpse of one of Gibbs' fingers bent at an angle that wasn't generally recommended. The two men ducked back down again, looking at each other. McGee looked freaked out, and Tony's stomach was still clenched from what he had seen, though he hoped his features didn't show it as much as McGee's. Shaking off his momentary shock as best he could, DiNozzo forced himself back into Federal Agent mode. He instinctively drew his weapon and took another look through the window, this time with somewhat more caution than he'd exhibited before, memorizing every detail. After a moment he crouched back down by McGee. "The three men in there with Gibbs make six men total with the guy we tied up and the two that were arguing, plus any others that we may not have seen yet. One of the three with Gibbs is Spezzo. I recognized him from the case file."

"So what do we do?" McGee asked, still looking nervous.

"Well, we can't kill Spezzo. Gibbs wants that pleasure all to himself, especially now. Some back-up would be nice…"

"There is none."

Tony resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "I can see that, Probie! Call in and give them our location. Tell them there's a possible hostage situation."

"You really think Gibbs—"

"I really don't know what Gibbs was thinking, but whatever it was, he should've warned me better, because I have no choice now but to assume what's going on, and you know what they say about people who assume things."

"What's that?"

"That they shouldn't." Tony answered absently, his attention taken by the footprints he'd just noticed on the ground near the back of the building. It seemed that the direction of the wind and the placement of the buildings had prevented too much snow from settling in their vicinity, but there was still enough to make footprints visible. His senses alert, Tony followed the prints to the back of the building while McGee was making his call. DiNozzo pressed his back against the wall, taking a quick glance around the corner. The footprints continued around to a door, which was unguarded, at least on the outside. He motioned for McGee to follow him as he crept quietly toward it.

The door had no window, but didn't appear to be bolted shut. Tony weighed their options. They could open the door and hope no one noticed, thus keeping the element of surprise and proceeding to shoot the thugs, arrest Spezzo, get Gibbs, and call it a day. Or, they could wait for back-up, hoping Gibbs didn't piss off his captors too much in the meantime.

Tony asked himself what Gibbs would do…but then the little voice inside his head reminded him what Gibbs _had_ done, and why he was currently standing here trying to figure out how to get him out of it.

"Tony, do you hear that?" McGee whispered from his place on the other side of the doorway, a worried look on his face.

"Yeah, I do." A moan came from somewhere inside. "It's someone getting the crap beaten out of them." Expression grim, DiNozzo tried the door handle, and wasn't too surprised to find it unlocked. Why bother when you thought your compound was secure?

McGee followed, sweeping the area with his gun, just as Tony had done moments before. "Clear," DiNozzo whispered, closing the door quietly before making his way quickly forward toward a heavy canvas curtain that was being used as a room divider. He could hear an angry voice beyond the curtain and then heard Gibbs grunt as someone presumably hit him.

"I'll ask you again, Special Agent Gibbs. Who informed you of our operation here? I warn you, I am getting impatient and I think my associates are also."

"Your associates would do good to forget this 'operation' ever took place, Spezzo. My people are on their way, and while we are only interested in you, we can't just overlook this sort of thing."

"You have not answered my question, Gibbs. How did you find out? And how long have you been snooping around here?"

This time, DiNozzo clearly heard the sound of a fist making contact, and he winced inadvertently, but forced himself to wait just a little longer.

"Long enough to know that you're not getting a fair price for those weapons."

Spezzo let out a vicious growl of frustration and then Tony heard what sounded like a pencil snapping in two, punctuated by Gibbs cursing loudly, pain evident in his voice.

"You will tell me what I want to know, Agent Gibbs. Only eight more to go this way, but I can get creative if need be…" Spezzo gripped another of Gibbs' fingers, and Gibbs clenched his jaw, preparing himself.

"I really don't think that will be necessary, do you?" Tony said, stepping around the curtain, his gun pointed squarely at Spezzo's head. McGee covered the other two men, neither of which had been quick enough in drawing their weapons with the sudden appearance of the two agents. Much to DiNozzo's surprise, they put their hands up in surrender.

"My, my. The tables do turn in a hurry don't they?" Tony grinned widely at Spezzo, waiting until McGee had secured the other two men's weapons before removing Spezzo's weapon from its holster.

"I could still kill him in several ways, you know." Spezzo didn't move away from Gibbs, but shifted his grip to Gibbs' index finger. "Or I could make sure he never shoots straight again."

"Yeah, but that would just make him more angry at you than he already is…and trust me, you don't want that. Isn't that right, Boss?"

"Damn straight." Gibbs fixed an icy glare on Spezzo, who just smiled back calmly. "Today, DiNozzo, would be good."

Tony doubted Spezzo could hear the strain in Gibbs' voice, but he certainly could. "Fine by me, Boss. Why don't you come with me, Mr. Spezzo. McGee has some special jewelry for you to try on." Tony took hold of Spezzo's arm to pull him away from Gibbs, and glanced toward McGee for just a moment. His mind registered movement as the men McGee was guarding chose that moment to make a run for it, their cuffed hands doing little to slow them down…then Spezzo suddenly spun, knocking the gun from Tony's hand and landing a solid blow to his jaw that had him seeing stars. As he hit the floor he heard a two gunshots, a moan—possibly his own—and he thought he heard Spezzo cursing. Then someone was shaking his shoulder gently.

"DiNozzo! Hey, you with me?"

"Gibbs?" Tony blinked rapidly, his vision eventually clearing to see his boss kneeling over him, looking at him with concern. "Where's…" He trailed off as he noticed someone else on the ground, but his mind still wasn't processing things clearly.

"McGee got Spezzo, Tony. It's okay. Question is, are you?"

"I should be asking you the same thing." He sat up unsteadily, supported by Gibbs' hand on his back, and shook his head to clear the last of the cobwebs left by Spezzo's fist, then turned to study Gibbs. He was pale, and Tony could tell from the tight set of his jaw that he was in pain. "You look like hell."

Gibbs gave him a look that clearly suggested Tony had no room to talk, but pulled the younger man to his feet with his good hand. The other was carefully tucked in the pocket of his jacket so Tony was unable to see the extent of the damage to his fingers.

DiNozzo surveyed the scene before him for the first time as he and Gibbs made their way slowly to McGee, who turned to them. "The paramedics are on their way, Boss. I can have them send more if you two need…"

"I'm fine!" Tony and Gibbs growled in unison, both glaring at McGee.

To his credit, McGee just blinked, and continued on, "Our backup arrived in time to stop the majority of Spezzo's colleagues, including the one I missed." McGee glanced subconsciously to where Spezzo and one of the other men who had been guarding Gibbs lay on the floor. Spezzo seemed to be unconscious, having taken a bullet in the shoulder. The other was writhing in pain and alternately cursing at McGee for shooting him.

Gibbs shrugged. "Two out of three isn't bad." Normally he would have chewed McGee out for not securing the men better, and especially for letting one of them escape (even though he'd been caught quickly enough), but Spezzo was his main concern. He had no delusions they would be bringing down the entirety of two mafias by capturing a couple of their lackeys anyway, and if truth be told, at the moment, his hand hurt too bad for him to give a damn. "Call me when I can interrogate them."

"Got it, Boss."

Gibbs and DiNozzo passed by several agents and members of local law enforcement on their way toward the entrance of the compound. Tony noticed Ziva questioning (or more accurately, berating) one of Spezzo's men—he saw that it was one of the guys from the earlier petty argument—and smirked. Leave it to Ziva to put a frightened expression on the face of someone twice her size.

"Uh…Boss? Shouldn't we stick around to collect evidence? You know, murder weapons, weapons in general, mafia miscellany…" Tony said, noticing Gibbs was headed straight for the compound entrance, not even stopping to check in with the lead agent of the back-up team.

"Officer David and Agent McGee are capable of collecting evidence on their own."

"So where are we going?"

"Back to headquarters." Gibbs glanced over at him. "You're bleeding."

Tony shrugged. "We needed a diversion. Did you know that the Elf Lord's scream sounds like the squealing tires when you drive?"

Gibbs gave him a look, and Tony braced himself, expecting to get smacked in the head, but Gibbs just kept walking. Tony trudged after him down the path, trying not to limp. If he wouldn't have already been mostly numb from being outside in the rain and snow all day, he was certain he'd have been feeling every one of today's misfortunes…self-inflicted and otherwise. On the other hand, the penetrating cold was also sapping his energy. A glance at Gibbs didn't reveal much to the untrained eye, but if Tony was reading him right, the older agent was similarly worn out and fighting to not show it.

Seeming to sense Tony's train of thought, Gibbs stopped walking and looked at him, and was about to tell him to mind his own business, but Tony beat him to the punch.

"Hell of a day, huh, Boss?" Tony said, and started walking again, sticking his hands in his coat pockets and letting his shoulders slump a little, his way of saying that he didn't plan to pretend for any longer that he wasn't tired and sore.

"Ya think, DiNozzo?" Gibbs fell into step beside his senior agent, mimicking Tony's slower pace and slightly slumped posture. The two walked in silence then, an understanding reached that further conversation would be pointless, irritating, and more effort than either of them was willing to expend. After what seemed like several miles, they reached the ditch where Tony's car was parked. He fished in his pocket for the keys, tossing his gear in the trunk and yawning as he opened the door to get in.

"Are you sure you're all right to drive?" Gibbs asked, looking at him carefully.

"Why wouldn't I be? I'm used to getting knocked in the head." Tony flashed Gibbs his best grin, but Gibbs wasn't buying it.

"Yeah, but twice in one day is pushing it a little, even for you."

"How did you know about…never mind. I'm fine. Your hand isn't."

"Fine, you drive, but you're going to let Ducky look you over when we get back."

"What about you?" Tony countered, just for the hell of it as they got in the car. Sparring with Gibbs would help keep him awake on the drive back.

"What about me?" Gibbs fastened his seatbelt somewhat awkwardly, then leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes. Tony doubted he was actually going to sleep, but either way it put an end to the conversation. DiNozzo sighed and pulled onto the road, heading back toward D.C.


	10. Spilling the Beans

A/N: Well, at long last, here is the conclusion! I know it's been forever coming, and I can offer no good explanation for it except that life happened and writing this story didn't. Thanks to everyone who has reviewed this, your feedback has been wonderful. Thanks also to everyone who kept prodding me to finish this. I finally took your advice, and for your efforts you get this nice, long chapter in return. ;)

I hope this chapter measures up to the others somewhat in quality and that the ending does the story justice without leaving any major loose ends hanging, as I haven't gone back and read the entire story recently. Thanks for reading!

* * *

Chapter 10

As soon as Tony pulled into his parking space at headquarters, Gibbs opened his eyes and got out of the car. Tony grabbed his gear from the trunk and hurried after him as quickly as his stiff muscles would allow. "I knew you weren't asleep. You just pretended to be so I wouldn't turn on any music," he accused.

"I couldn't take the risk that you had the same songs as McGee stored on your Pod-thing," Gibbs smirked, entering the building ahead of DiNozzo.

"Hey! Now that's just mean, Boss! I don't touch the probie's music. I may have borrowed a picture or two when he wasn't looking…besides, if you can handle Abby's music you could certainly handle mine."

Gibbs didn't answer and remained silent as they got onto the elevator. Tony punched the button for the bullpen and Gibbs punched the one for autopsy. Tony ignored him, and when the doors slid open at the bullpen, took a step forward. "I wouldn't do that if I were you, DiNozzo."

"Do what?" Tony asked innocently, but took a step back and let the doors slide closed again before Gibbs got any ideas. His headache really didn't need any more ammunition at the moment.

Several seconds later the doors slid open again and they stepped out and walked down the hallway toward the morgue. Ducky was cleaning up, having just finished with an autopsy. On hearing them enter, he looked over. "Good heavens, Jethro. What have the two of you been getting yourselves into?"

"Just a very long day, Duck."

"Indeed. What can I do for you?"

"DiNozzo needs his head examined."

"Some would argue that should have happened long ago." Ducky and Gibbs grinned at each other.

Tony didn't look amused, and he knew just how to exact revenge. "It's nothing really. It's not half as bad as Gibbs' hand—" Tony paused at seeing Gibbs' death-glare directed his way, and decided the revenge thing could wait for later, "—hitting me in the head. I let my guard down and got served a knuckle sandwich, though not from Gibbs."

"But before that he got knocked out," Gibbs added helpfully, now smiling at Tony. The smile reminded DiNozzo of a hungry shark looking at an unsuspecting swimmer.

"Hmm…and what happened to you, then?" Ducky turned his attention to Gibbs, studying his black eye.

"What's it look like?" Gibbs hedged, but was saved from commenting further when DiNozzo suddenly swayed. "Easy, Tony." Gibbs grabbed the younger man's arm and steadied him.

Ducky peered at him with concern. "I think Jethro is correct, Anthony. Why don't you have a seat while I collect my medical bag?"

Tony just rubbed at his eyes and allowed Gibbs to walk him over to one of the tables. He winced slightly as he climbed up, his torn pants rubbing against the self-inflicted laceration on his thigh. "So, Boss, about your—"

"DiNozzo, if I find out you gave Ducky a hard time about anything you'll be pulling desk duty for a year. I'm going to talk to Ziva," Gibbs said, and after giving Tony a last look to make sure the man wasn't going to pass out, he strode from the room effectively cutting off further conversation.

"Any idea what has him in such a hurry?"

"You know, I would love to tell you Ducky, I really would, but I sort of like my job…"

"That's quite all right, my boy. I'm sure in due time someone will let the cat out of the bag. Now, let me see what you've done to yourself."

* * *

Gibbs took the elevator up to the level of Abby's lab, and peered cautiously into the hallway before stepping out. He could hear music blasting from the lab, which meant Abby would be found somewhere within, and he silently thanked whoever had designed the building for placing the bathroom between the elevator and the lab. He walked as quietly as possible down the hallway, even though he knew from personal experience that Abby wouldn't be hearing anything over the blaring noise.

Slipping into the bathroom, he did a quick check of the stalls and was relieved to find them empty. He debated locking the door, but decided against it with what he was about to do, just in case. At this time of night, it wasn't likely that anyone was going to walk in anyway.

Stepping to the sink, Gibbs gingerly pulled his injured hand from his coat pocket. His right ring finger and pinky were bent at odd angles and badly swollen. Bruising had begun to spread past his knuckles to color the side of his hand as well. He sighed, turning his entire arm to better view the damage without jarring his fingers. No part of this was going to be pleasant, but he didn't have time to get waylaid by Ducky at the moment. Spezzo would probably be ready for interrogation by tomorrow afternoon, and there was no small amount of paperwork to file concerning his arrest.

Turning on the tap, he tested the water temperature and waited until the stream was ice cold. Taking a deep breath, he placed his hand under the tap, hissing at the pain that small amount of pressure caused. He waited, letting the cold cascade over edema-cushioned cracked bone. Numbness was a long time in coming, and he waited five minutes beyond that, enjoying the temporary anesthetic. He removed his hand from the spray, shut off the faucet, and pressed his back against the wall while bracing his hip against the countertop. Gibbs studied his hand, and he decided the pinky was first as the swelling had gone down enough that he could clearly ascertain the angle of the bone.

Clenching his jaw, Gibbs gripped the damaged digit firmly and tugged. He couldn't help from crying out as pain receptors fired, shooting lances of agony through his hand and forearm. The edges of his vision grayed for a moment and he blindly grabbed at the countertop with his good hand to steady himself against the swirling walls of the room around him.

* * *

Abby paced her lab nervously. McGee had phoned over an hour ago to let her know that Gibbs and Tony were on their way back, and she was getting impatient. She was concerned for Gibbs, especially since Tim had let slip that he had been injured. McGee had had to go collect evidence, and assured her that the injuries weren't severe and that Gibbs would be fine before hanging up, but for some reason his reassurance wasn't helping her anxiety.

Deciding he would probably be his typical self and head to the bullpen first rather than to see Ducky, she decided she'd intercept him there and drag him to Ducky herself. Nodding at having chosen a course of action, Abby stepped out of her lab and headed for the elevator, just in time to see Gibbs disappearing into the men's room. She stopped and re-assessed the situation. Going in after him wasn't an option she was willing to consider just yet. Waiting for him by the door seemed like a good idea, although if he was still in the mood he'd been in this morning then that mood was probably ten times worse by now, and she didn't want him to feel like she was nagging.

Her eyes roamed to a nearby security camera and Abby grinned and raced back to her lab. Typing furiously at her keyboard, she brought up the feed for the camera on her monitor, punched in a couple of commands that turned the camera so the bathroom door was in view, and pulled up a chair.

Ten minutes later, Abby was staring at the screen with a puzzled frown. What was taking him so long? Surely he hadn't exited in the time it had taken her to bring up the camera feed. If he had, then he'd be in her lab by now. There was no plausible explanation for why he would make a special trip to this level to use that particular bathroom if he wasn't coming to see her. On the other hand, if he was trying to avoid detection, this would also be the perfect place to do so. Conflicted, she sat there for another five minutes. After all, she really didn't want to disturb quality time with the sports page, but finally Abby decided enough was enough. He could kill her if he wanted. She'd lived a long and happy life.

Making her way back down the hallway, she knocked on the door, waited a moment, then pushed it open while mentally reciting, _Here lies Abby Sciuto, Forensic Scientist Extraordinaire, and definition of the term Sportus Interruptus. May she rest in…_ Abby's self-epitaph ended abruptly as she recognized the sound of someone retching. "Gibbs?" she questioned, though she wasn't sure why. He wasn't going to answer her while worshipping the porcelain god. She moved in the direction of the toilets, pushed the unlatched door of the one occupied stall the rest of the way open, and found the man in question. Abby studied Gibbs, attempting to assess him professionally as she would a lab sample, knowing he didn't like it when she got all worried about him. Also, she wasn't sure whether to be worried or furious at the moment anyway. He was on his knees and was gripping the toilet tissue dispenser with his left hand for support. The muscles of his arm were trembling slightly. She set her jaw as he had done on numerous occasions when he was angry. He could be so stupid. Why hadn't he gone to Ducky? _Because he's Gibbs and he's stubborn_, she reminded herself. _And I have every reason to chew him out for it._

A shudder ran through his body and a quiet grunt escaped between heaves. Her expression softened. Who was she kidding? "You are not a piece of evidence, Gibbs," she stated decisively and moved to crouch behind him. Reaching out, Abby began to rub his back gently. After several long moments, the god was sufficiently worshipped and he straightened a little.

"You shouldn't be in here, Abbs." Gibbs' voice was quiet and a little hoarse. He raised his eyes to look at her over his shoulder, and frowned a little in confusion, "And why would I be evidence?"

"I was just thinking out loud," she smiled slightly, though it didn't quite reach her eyes as she took in his pale face, his hair damp with sweat.

Gibbs continued to stare at her and finally spoke, "Abby?"

"Yeah, Gibbs?"

"Can I get up now?"

Abby snapped out of her reverie. "Oh. Right." She stood and stepped back to allow him more room. He was moving very stiffly as he got to his feet, and when he turned to the side slightly to flush, she didn't miss the pained look on his face. That's when she saw his right hand cradled against his chest. Her mouth dropped open at seeing one crooked finger and another that was now straight, though obviously similarly damaged. She allowed him to exit the stall before swatting him lightly on the shoulder. "Are you sure this is the men's room? Because I'm starting to think I missed a sign that said 'Idiots Only'." She'd tried for annoyance, but her voice betrayed more concern than anger as her mind fully put two and two together about what he'd been doing in here prior to her arrival.

Gibbs didn't answer and started walking back toward the sinks, bracing himself slightly against the wall with his good hand as he did so. The room seemed to have gotten a little wobbly again, and he was secretly thankful for Abby's arrival. Granted, it meant he wasn't going to be able to go through with his plan of fixing his other finger, but in hindsight that plan had been ill-advised to say the least.

"Gibbs…Gibbs!"

He blinked. When had he stopped walking? And when had she unbuttoned his shirt? He glanced down. Make that ripped open his shirt. There were buttons missing. He looked up at her and quirked an eyebrow, once again confused. "Abbs…I don't think this is the time or the place for that…"

It took her a moment to catch onto what he was saying, and she glared at him. "Gibbs, you are intelligent and wonderful and I love you, but you are stupid if you think I would try that right now, Buster! Or should I say Busted?" Abby pulled his shirt and coat further out of the way and stared at the black and blue splotches that covered a good portion of his side. "Some of your ribs obviously are, not to mention your fingers! What were you thinking working a case in this condition?! Just wait until Ducky finds out!" she paused and closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. When she looked back at him, her surge of annoyance had again faded to concern and she took his arm, leading him toward the door.

Gibbs sighed wearily. He'd known it was unlikely that he would escape without one of them noticing his hand, but he'd hoped the rest would go unseen. The last thing he needed was a lecture from Ducky. He'd broken his ribs badly once before and that time just sitting up had been incredibly painful for the first week, so he knew that the injury wasn't as serious this time around, perhaps just a couple of cracks instead of complete breaks. Abby was right that the strenuous events of the past days hadn't helped anything, what with the general death-warmed-over feeling that lingered after one broke bones, but he still wasn't understanding one thing. "Why did you rip my shirt, Abbs?"

She stopped walking and he halted with her. Abby looked at him, and he could see the anxiety in her eyes, hear a slight tremor in her voice as she answered, "I…didn't. Your shirt was already torn and when you started walking it shifted and I saw the bruises. What happened out there, Gibbs?" Her voice had dropped nearly to a whisper by the time she asked the question, and part of her didn't want to hear the answer. A bigger part of her needed to though.

"I let a killer catch me so Tony and McGee could catch him," Gibbs answered quietly, his eyes meeting Abby's for a brief moment, a moment in which he admitted what a gross flaw in judgment his actions had been. The wide green eyes looking back at him were still anxious, maybe more so in fact, but held understanding as well, and he squeezed her arm against him slightly with his own, since he couldn't squeeze her hand, and let her guide him from the bathroom. They had nearly reached the door of her inner lab office before he realized that she wasn't dragging him down to autopsy and Ducky.

His legs were beginning to feel rubbery as she sat him down on the edge of her futon, and he found that he was shivering. "Lay back," she murmured, and he wanted to protest that he was going to get everything wet since his clothes were still damp, but fatigue and pain were crashing over him in waves and wouldn't allow more than a quiet groan to pass his lips as she eased him flat. He felt Abby unlace his boots, and then he was being covered with her prized punk-band blanket…what was the name of the group? Lead Pipe? No, it was Lead Towel or something equally odd. Abby's fingers gently combing through his hair were doing a wonderful job of coaxing his addled brain toward sleep and he finally gave in to darkness.

* * *

"You can really be a mother hen, Ducky. Uh…no pun intended," Tony's look of annoyance turned to a grin as he accompanied the older man toward one of the smaller rooms just off the main autopsy bay.

"I've had a lot of practice while taking care of my own mother, but if you and Jethro wouldn't be so stubborn about hospitals I might not have to practice my routine quite so often around here." Ducky pushed open the door and nudged Tony inside. "Are you certain I can't convince you to go get a CAT scan? It's very likely you have a minor concussion."

"I don't really need to wait around all night for another doctor to tell me the same thing then, do I? Besides, Gibbs might make good on that desk duty threat if I just take off," DiNozzo said, glancing around the tiny room. Ducky had diagnosed him with a sprained ankle and probable concussion, among other things, and since Tony refused to pay a visit to the ER, the ME had led him here and insisted that he rest for a while. The room was equipped with a gurney that looked only slightly more comfortable than the autopsy tables, but this room was warm and he was still a bit cold from being out in the snow, despite running his car heater full blast all the way back to DC. Come to think of it, a nap didn't sound like a bad idea either.

"Jethro is probably in worse shape than you are, my boy," Ducky said, interrupting his thoughts. "I doubt he'll be threatening anyone tonight, except me perhaps. Now, you just lie down and I'll fetch some ice for your ankle and get Ziva to find you some dry clothes."

"Check on Gibbs first."

DiNozzo's serious tone made Ducky turn back around, and he didn't like the grimness he saw in Tony's expression. "Abby's been worried about him the last couple of days, Spezzo and his men weren't exactly gentle," Tony continued, "and you didn't hear this from me, but they broke at least two of his fingers when he wouldn't tell them what they wanted to hear."

"And you wonder why I'm a mother hen." Ducky shook his head. "All right, I'll see to Jethro first. I'm going to send Mr. Palmer to look in on you though. You shouldn't stay asleep for too long at a time just yet."

"I've had a concussion before, Ducky. I'll be fine. Thanks."

Ducky nodded and waited until Tony was safely on the gurney before heading off to begin his search for Gibbs.

* * *

Abby continued stroking Gibbs' hair until she was sure he was asleep, not liking the heat that was radiating off him. Sighing, she stood and went to find Ducky. She made it halfway to the elevators when she spotted him walking toward her.

"Abigail, have you seen Jethro?" he asked as he approached. She noticed he was carrying his medical bag.

"If you're speaking of our fearless and somewhat foolish leader, then yes, he's asleep in my lab. I was just coming to look for you. He's hurt, Ducky."

"Of that much Anthony has already informed me. Don't worry, my dear. Broken fingers are painful, but they generally heal with minimal difficulty." Ducky put his arm around her shoulders and turned them back toward her lab.

"What if you attempt to set them yourself?" Abby asked.

"Then I would have to agree with the 'somewhat foolish' part of your description," Ducky said, frowning.

The two walked through the outer lab quietly, both finding the lack of blaring music somewhat disconcerting. At the doorway of her office, Abby stopped Ducky. At his questioning look, she blurted, "It's not just his hand that's hurt. His shirt was torn and there's bruising all the way down his right side, but I'm pretty sure it's from a few days ago. He's got a fever too, but I'm not sure how bad it is."

Ducky scowled again. "Any other surprises?"

"Not aside from the thorny encounter I told you about earlier."

He sighed. "Well, I suppose it's time to go wake the bear then."

Abby smiled at the aptness of his comment and followed Ducky into her office. He set down his bag on the futon next to Gibbs' leg and carefully drew back the blanket that was covering him, quirking an eyebrow at Abby upon reading the blanket's text. She just grinned, but the worry that still resided in her eyes prompted him quickly back to his task.

Gibbs' injured hand rested across his chest, and Ducky settled for a visual examination for the time being. He would need to ice the digits and administer a local anesthetic at the very least, preferably with an accompanying x-ray, to perform a proper reduction of the fractures. Retrieving an aural thermometer from his bag, he proceeded to check Gibbs' temperature. The device beeped softly a moment later, and he'd barely withdrawn it when Gibbs jerked awake, trying to swat the noisy object with his good hand, hissing as the movement jostled his other.

"Ah, nice of you to join us," Ducky said. He smiled a bit as two bleary eyes came to focus on him, then glanced at the digital display of the thermometer before setting it aside.

"Duck? What happened?" Gibbs tried to push himself up, but there was a weight on his shoulder preventing the motion. He gradually realized the weight was Ducky's hand.

"Stay still for a few moments, Jethro. Abigail tells me that you've been practicing medicine without a license, and although that may work well in the field during combat, there is no need for it here."

"How's DiNozzo?" Gibbs asked, but didn't try to sit up again.

"Nice try to change the subject," Ducky narrowed his eyes at Gibbs, but answered, "Anthony is a little worse for the wear, I'm afraid, but I've taken care of the lacerations he gave himself. He's currently napping downstairs and I've got Mr. Palmer keeping an eye on him until I get back. After a good night's sleep I expect he'll feel quite a lot better, though I do wish he'd go get a CAT scan."

"Tell him he's fired if he doesn't."

"In that case, shall I tell the director to expect your letter of resignation for refusing to go to the hospital?" Ducky smiled smugly.

"I don't need a hospital, Duck." Gibbs glared at him.

"You're running nearly a 101 degree fever, Jethro, and there is the matter of your hand so I'm not sure I agree with you on that, but I won't argue the point for the moment. How are you feeling otherwise?"

Gibbs stared at the ME for several seconds, then glanced over to Abby, and finally decided that lying wasn't worth the effort. He could tell they were both biting their tongues to keep from going into lecture mode. There was no need to provide more ammunition. "Tired." He scrubbed a hand over his face. "My fingers hurt like hell and my ribs are fine if I don't bend much or move too fast."

"Does it hurt to breathe?" Ducky asked, pulling his stethoscope from his bag.

"Just aches a bit."

"All right. I want you to move your arm to the side a little." Ducky wadded up the blanket to form a makeshift pillow. "Rest your hand on this and try not to move your fingers." Gibbs slowly did as instructed, his jaw clenching until his arm was settled again. Carefully pushing his shirt and jacket aside, so as not to disturb his hand further, Ducky touched the stethoscope to Gibbs' chest, listening to his heart, then lungs, paying close attention to the right side where most of the bruising was localized. "Your breathing sounds fairly normal, if a bit shallow." He looked up to see that Gibbs' eyes had closed. "Jethro?"

Getting no response, Ducky reached out and squeezed his shoulder. "Jethro? Open your eyes if you can hear me."

After a moment, Gibbs blinked up at him, but his eyes didn't seem entirely focused and Ducky could see faint lines of pain on his face. "That's better. I'm going to get you something for pain and then we'll see what we can do for your hand."

"No hospitals," Gibbs said firmly, forcing himself to focus on Ducky, even though the room was spinning slowly and his eyes weren't sure whether to refer to Ducky in singular or plural form.

The ME looked uncertain, but nodded after a moment. "All right, I'll see what I can do, but if the fractures seem at all unstable you're getting x-rays before I do anything."

Gibbs nodded in acceptance and his eyes slid closed once again. Ducky took his pulse and seemed satisfied, packing the stethoscope and thermometer back into his bag.

"Is he okay?" Abby whispered.

"All things considered, I suppose so."

"Does he need to be in the hospital?"

"He's certainly not well, but his vitals are stable so I think we can honor his request. Did you drive to work this morning, my dear?"

"Yes. What are you thinking, Duck-man?" Abby asked, seeing a mischievous glint in his eyes.

* * *

The sound of quiet, steady breathing greeted Gibbs on his return to wakefulness. He recognized the feel of Abby's form curled up next to him, though she was on his left rather than his right where she usually slept. As awareness seeped further into his brain, he began to notice more details that were out of place. Something constricting was wrapped around his chest and his side ached if he breathed too deeply, his left hand had something stuck to the back of it, and when he tried to move his right hand a sharp pain spiked through it and up his forearm, even though the hand itself didn't flex. The pain caused his body to jerk involuntarily and he forced his eyes open, more out of curiosity than any actual interest in being awake.

In the half-light of the room, he could see that his right arm was elevated and that a splint was the culprit immobilizing his hand. After a few seconds of looking at it in confusion, his memory caught up with him and he recalled what had happened to his fingers. As far as he could remember, his other hand had been fine, but something was certainly hinky with it now. He lifted it and was more than a little surprised to find an IV taped to the back. Hadn't he made his feelings about hospitals blatantly clear to Abby and Ducky? He looked around and recognized the surroundings as his guest bedroom. Again he stared at his hand.

"Gibbs, you're awake!"

Gibbs wasn't sure what jumped higher, his heart rate or himself. When he had regained some semblance of control, he glared at Abby, though there was no real heat behind it. "If you wanted to kill me, Abbs, from the look of it you could've just left me alone a while longer and nature would've taken its course."

She looked at him sheepishly for about half a second, then grinned and sat up enough to plant a kiss on his cheek. "Sorry, I wasn't trying to scare you, I just got excited. It's been awhile, Boss-man."

"Awhile since what, exactly?"

"Since you've been awake enough to talk."

"Define 'awhile'."

"Over a day."

He frowned, holding up his left hand. "Care to explain this?"

"You've been pretty sick since you got back the other night, Gibbs. Ducky said it was that or the hospital. Your arm got a little infected from the thorn thrashing incident and you needed antibiotics and antipyretics and anti-dehydrating agents…you get the idea." There was a touch of humor in her voice, and her tone was light, but he could see in her eyes that she had been more than a little worried.

He took her hand in his and squeezed it before dropping his arm back to the mattress, though their fingers remained entwined. "I'm sorry, Abbs."

She didn't answer him for several seconds. He didn't often apologize outright, not even to her, so she knew this was weighing heavily on him. She'd weaseled a few major details out of McGee over the phone regarding the case, and she thought she mostly understood Gibbs' actions. She'd certainly thought about it enough while tending to him the past hours, but the same question still kept cropping up, even though she suspected she knew the answer. "Can you just tell me why this Spezzo person was so important that you would let him torture you just to catch him? I know he killed people, Gibbs, but I also know you've seen worse."

Gibbs sighed. There was only sadness in her voice at what he had gone through, not anger for his having done what he did, and guilt again stabbed at him, making his words sound almost hollow to his ears when he answered. "I felt responsible. I arrested him the first time, knew he'd killed Corporal Madison. He _told_ me he did it, but a verbal confession heard by no one but the arresting officer doesn't exactly stand up as hard evidence. He walked…sure he got a few years for the check fraud, but nothing for the murder, and he was allowed to kill again because of it. I couldn't let him get away a second time."

"Well, you don't have to worry. Tony called a couple hours ago and said to let you know that Spezzo confessed." Abby smiled at him while absently stroking the side of his hand with her thumb.

"I wanted to be there for the interrogation," he said, obviously frustrated.

"Tony said it only lasted about fifteen minutes, which is longer than you would've lasted this morning, even if you had been awake."

Shifting a little so he could see her better, Gibbs groaned softly. When had the bus run him over? He had no clear memory of such an event, but his body was loudly suggesting otherwise. "I think you might be right."

"Is your hand still hurting? Ducky left some painkillers for you, but he won't be back until later this evening."

"Not much, it's fine for now." He looked down and realized for the first time that he wasn't wearing a shirt. Someone, likely Ducky, had taped his ribs and re-bandaged his arm, but he had no recollection of that happening. "Uh, Abbs, how did I get back here? The last thing I remember is talking to Ducky in your office."

"Well, it's kind of a funny story actually…" she paused at his wary look and then continued, "Remember how I insisted on driving to work the other day? It's a good thing I did…though looking back, I guess funny is probably not the word. It's a little creepy that you had to ride in the back when you were that sick to start with. I wouldn't have been bothered by it, but I'm glad you don't remember, Gibbs. It was the only way we could think of to get you home though, since Ducky had pretty much knocked you out with painkillers by that point." Abby looked like she was going to ramble further, but Gibbs stopped her.

"So you're saying that you brought me home in the back of your hearse?" Gibbs didn't look happy.

"Well, if we wouldn't have done that we'd have had to wake you up, which wasn't likely to happen, or we could've called an ambulance."

"If you had called an ambulance it would've been your funeral, Abbs."

She grinned mischievously. "Then I guess it's a good thing it was _yours_…um, just don't have another one for a really long time, okay?"

He chuckled. "I'll do my best."

* * *

THE END! 


End file.
